An Arrangement
by SkepticalBeliever
Summary: AU. After the end of the Hundred Years War, Lady Ursa and Chief Hakoda come to an arrangement regarding their two young children: Prince Zuko and Katara. Loosely inspired by the song "This Is My Idea" from The Swan Princess. There will be lots of time skips.
1. Chapter 1

"_They gave each other a smile with a future in it." –Ring Lardner_

**Chapter One: Striking a Match**

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Chief Hakoda."

"Thank _you _for sending all that money to help rebuild my tribe's infrastructure. I suspect that has something to do with why you invited me here today."

Chief Hakoda of the Southern Watertribe gave the Lady Ursa a measured look, his jaw tight with tension. She sat behind her large desk, hands neatly folded on its surface, a smile in her eyes. The Southern Chief had never met the acting Fire Lord until today but he had heard stories. Lady Ursa was every bit as beautiful as the stories claimed. Thus far, she had also proved her reputation for kindness and hospitality to be true, as well. But, he had also heard that she was a shrewd negotiator and fierce leader. These traits helped her end the war her now deceased husband's family had started one hundred years ago. However, it was because of her shrewdness and ferocity that Hakoda sat back in his chair, wondering if he could trust this woman.

She smiled, sensing that pleasantries were over. "The beginnings of reparations for my late husband's war," she said. "I invited you here so that we could perhaps iron out a more permanent arrangement that could benefit your tribe and my nation."

The chief crossed his arms over his chest but made no reply. She took this as a sign to continue.

"Aside from the Air Nation, no one has suffered more from this war than your tribe. _You_ have personally suffered at the hands of my husband's greed and pointless desire for power. I can in no way make up for the lost lives of your people, but I believe it is my duty as acting ruler of this nation to help pave the way for a better future for your people and mine."

Lady Ursa paused to let her words sink into the stoic chief.

"What do you suggest?" His cold eyes thawed.

Lady Ursa allowed herself a brief smile before continuing. "For starters, I would like to establish open trade between our nations. This war has been damaging for both of our economies and a diversity of goods traded between the two could only benefit us both."

"Very well. Draw up the trade agreements, if you like. But I should warn you: my people are grateful for your involvement in the war, but they are still very wary of the Fire Nation."

"Your people are not alone in their sentiments. The Earth Kingdom and the Northern Watertribe also have their fair share of dissent towards my country. I do not blame them in the slightest. However, it is important that I show them our commitment to ideal of peace. Establishing trade, I believe, will help rehabilitate my country's image. However, I also believe a more binding contract between our peoples is the only way to truly prove our…_commitment_."

Chief Hakoda quirked a brow and sat up in his seat. "Just what are you suggesting, Lady Ursa?"

"When my son, Prince Zuko, reaches the age of eighteen, he will inherit the throne. Wouldn't you agree that an alliance between our two nations, say, in the form of your daughter marrying my son, be the best way to maintain the peace?"

"Or your people could simply choose not to attack other nations without provocation."

Ursa smiled tightly. "Who's to say it would be my people attacking? As I said before, there is still a lot of dissent amongst the nations. An alliance of such a nature would be a deterrent for violence. In addition, it also demonstrates humility on my country's part and forgiveness on yours. Both virtues are necessary in order to move forward."

"No," Hakoda said sharply. "Draw up your trade agreements if you like, but I am not _bartering_ my child's happiness for political advancement. That is not my tribe's custom and she deserves much better than that."

For the first time since he met her, Lady Ursa's warm demeanor cooled. A chill ran up the chief's spine in response. "Do not make the mistake, Chief Hakoda," she began slowly, "of thinking you are the only parent here who cares about the happiness and well-being of their children."

He had heard the stories. Rumors. Whispers, really, of what this woman was capable, of what she was willing do in the name protecting her children. Ending the war had been as much about a personal vendetta against Ozai as it had been about moral and ethical reasons. This was his first glance at the real woman behind the patient leader, the woman whose family had suffered as his had suffered at the hands of her late husband.

"I could have proposed this scheme to any number of other influential families," she continued in the same cool manner. "Chief Arnook of the Northern Watertribe, for example, also has a daughter around Zuko's age. And, unlike your tribe, it _is_ their custom to, as you put it, 'barter their child's happiness for political advancement.' I have already received several letters from the patriarch of the Beifong family, suggesting the very scheme I proposed to you for his daughter. An alliance with such a financially stable and well respected family of the Earth Kingdom would do wonders for my country's economy and morale."

"Then why not make the deal with them? Why summon me here at all when you have such willing participants elsewhere?" His mind made up to leave, the chief stood. He was halfway towards the door when Lady Ursa spoke again.

"Because, deep down, you and I are the same."

Chief Hakoda turned and glared at her. They were not the same. She may have wanted to help his people but in the end, she was still Fire Nation. Never trust the Fire Nation.

And yet, as he glared at her, he saw an earnestness in her eyes that gave him pause. She saw this and when she spoke again, the warmth of their earlier pleasantries had returned. "Chief Hakoda, please sit. Allow me to finish my proposal. If you still find the scheme disagreeable when I am done, I will not argue with you. I only ask that you allow me to finish explaining before you pass judgment."

"Very well," he replied gruffly.

"Thank you. Now, it seems your objections stem from your concern for your daughter's say in the matter. I happen to agree with this; the children should have a say."

"Then what do you suggest?"

Lady Ursa smiled. "We have nine years until my son is eligible to take the throne. Coincidentally, by that time—and correct me if I am wrong—your daughter will have reached the age of marriage eligibility. I suggest that, for a few months out of each year, Katara stays here in the Fire Nation. She could get to know my son during those periods and become familiar with Fire Nation customs. Meanwhile, Zuko can get to know her and learn about Southern Watertribe traditions in his studies so that the cultural exchange is equitable. If, by the time they are of age, they cannot see a future in which they could be happy together, we let them out of the betrothal."

Amusement played on the corners of Chief Hakoda's lips. "It'll never work. Katara may only be seven years old, but she is as stubborn as an ox-mule."

"A family trait, no doubt."

Hakoda smirked, ignoring the barb. "So, when would these visits take place? I honestly have no knowledge of Fire Nation upbringing and customs but I am certain they are quite a bit different than ours."

"Well, for nine months of the year, my children are immersed in their studies as well as bending training. However, during the summer months they take a break from their studies and reduce the hours of their training each day. This would be the ideal time to bring Katara here. Although, I confess, I do not know much about Southern traditions and would hate to interrupt anything important during those months for you and your family."

"Actually, summers would be perfect. We take the best sailors in the tribe on an extending fishing trip during those months, following the migrations. It is also a bit of a rite of passage for the boys in the tribe. This will be Sokka's first time joining us."

"Then," Ursa said, extending her hand to the chief, "do we have an accord?"

Hakoda looked at the hand and then back at Ursa. Hesitantly, he reached out and took it. "Provisionally," he acknowledged, smirking.

"Of course."

"It'll never work."

"It doesn't hurt to try."


	2. Chapter 2

"_A kick in the teeth is good for some. A kiss with a fist is better than none." –Florence + The Machine_

**Chapter Two: Kiss with a Fist**

Katara had never ridden in a palanquin before arriving in the Fire Nation's capital. Katara had never _seen_ a palanquin before arriving in the capital. Or cobblestone streets. Or grass, for that matter. Her world was a canvas of white, violet, and blue. Here there was only scarlet, crimson, and gold. Everything about the Fire Nation was utterly alien to her. Her wide blue eyes drank it in as they passed through the winding streets on their way to the palace. Excitement mingled with dread. She reached up to the pendant around her neck and traced the carving with her stubby fingers.

Next to her sat Chief Hakoda. As he watched his daughter's emotions play across her face, he recalled his first trip to the Fire Nation capital. The colors, the sounds, the _smells_—it was enough to overwhelm even the strongest of men; he hoped that the culture shock would not be too much for little Katara to handle. "Stop fidgeting," he said gently, placing a hand over his daughter's and removing it from the pendant. "Everything is going to be okay. You'll see."

"What if they don't like me?"

The question pierced his heart.

Katara had taken the news about her impending engagement rather well, although he suspected it was largely because she did not fully grasp just what that meant for her yet. All spring, she had boasted to her brother about her coming trip to the Fire Nation, and all spring he had had to listen to Sokka's complaints about why his little sister got to go on an adventure and he did not. The boy's complaints were only ever silenced by the reminder that he was going to join the fishermen this year to follow the migrations.

It was not until this moment that Katara had betrayed any sense of anxiety over the trip. Katara looked up at her father, worry etched into her brow. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Of course, they'll like you."

"But what if they don't?"

Hakoda made a face. "If they don't completely adore you by the end of the day, they are bigger simpletons than I thought. Just remember: if one of them knocks you down, what do you do?"

"Get back up?"

"That's my girl," he said, clapping a hand on her shoulder. Katara mustered a weak smile.

* * *

><p>Prince Zuko was not shirking his responsibilities. He most certainly was <em>not<em> hiding from his uncle and his mother. And he most definitely was _not_ avoiding all of them in a moon-peach tree above the turtle-duck pond.

The young prince crouched on a low branch, obscured by the foliage. His legs were cramping from sitting in the tree for too long. Through the leaves, he could see his uncle searching about the garden, calling his name. When he approached the tree, Zuko pressed himself closer to the trunk, his breathing shallow, praying to Agni that he would pass by, unaware of his location. The spirits seemed to take pity on him; as soon as his uncle had reached the base of the tree, a servant called him inside. Zuko did not exhale until he saw his uncle completely disappear.

"How long are you planning on hiding up here, Zu-Zu?"

Zuko jumped in surprise. "Azula! What are you doing here?"

Several branches above Zuko's head sat Azula, his younger sister. She lounged lazily against the bow of the tree, a moon-peach in hand. She took a bite out of it and grinned wickedly at her brother below. "Oh, you know. Just wondering what you would be willing to do to keep me from telling mother dearest where you're hiding." She smirked at his obvious discomfort. "The water peasants will be here soon." She flicked the moon-peach pit into the pond, an afterthought.

"_Please_, Azula. I'll give you anything. Just don't tell mom."

"Oh, _really_?"

"_Yes_," Zuko sighed, exasperated.

"Fine. I want the dagger Uncle Iroh brought home for you from Ba Sing Se."

Zuko unconsciously gripped the dagger attached to his belt. _Never give up without a fight_ the inscription said. Words to live by. He shook his head. "No. You can't have that."

"Well, then," Azula purred, hopping down from her spot in the tree and landing smoothly on the ground, "I guess you can't have your little hiding spot, either. I'm going to find Mom." She turned on her heel and strode away towards the palace proper, pausing only to shoot a dart of fire at her brother who was no longer paying any attention to her.

The fire whizzed past Zuko's face, missing his ear by millimeters. He flailed his arms in response, his balance lost, and tumbled out of the tree into shallow pond. The cool water bubbled around him, steaming. "Azula!"

* * *

><p>Lady Ursa paced the courtyard, her teeth gnawing at her thumbnail. <em>They will arrive any minute now! Where <em>is_ that boy?_

Ursa glanced up when she spotted Iroh. His usually jovial face crinkled into a serious expression upon seeing her, a silent answer to her silent question. She breathed in deeply through her nose and sighed. "I suppose this is the part where you tell me boys will be boys?"

"Perhaps, but it still reflects poorly on him and the family. I'll have a word with him later; just to remind him of his princely duties. Maybe give him a few tips on how to charm the ladies while I am at it." He winked.

"_That_ won't be necessary, Iroh." She went back to chewing her nail. "Where is that boy?"

"Katara will be with us for the next three months. Even if the prince should evade us the entire day, he will not be able to do so forever. Eventually, they will have to meet."

Iroh's words only mildly soothed her when a servant approached them and announced the arrival of the chief and his daughter. Lady Ursa dropped her hands to her sides and assumed a more dignified posture. The pair watched as the palanquin was brought into the courtyard and lowered to the ground. Chief Hakoda exited first, his visage noticeably more relaxed than his previous visit. He was followed by Katara. She pushed the veil of the palanquin away, and stepped out, wide-eyed and mouth agape.

Lady Ursa beamed at them both as they approached. "Welcome back to the capital, Chief Hakoda," she said, stepping forward and bowing deeply at the waist. "We are honored by your presence. May I present to you my brother-in-law and chief advisor, General Iroh?" She gestured behind her and the former general stepped forward.

"It is an honor to make your acquaintance, General. I have heard many stories about you." Hakoda extended his arm out to the general, the traditional warrior's greeting.

Iroh grasped the arm and chuckled. "Only good stories, I hope."

"Depends on who you talk to," Hakoda replied good-naturedly.

"There will be time for harrowing stories later, I'm sure. Right now, I am dying to meet this lovely creature you have with you." Iroh's eyes twinkled kindly as they fell upon Katara, hidden slightly behind her father.

"Lady Ursa, General Iroh, this is my daughter, Katara—the light of my life and one half of my heart."

Touched by the warmth of his introduction, Lady Ursa crouched down so that she was at eyelevel with Katara and took both of her hands into hers. She spoke softly, just to the girl, "I am so pleased to meet you, Katara. My name is Lady Ursa, but you can just call me Ursa. I hope that you and I can become fast friends." Katara's uncertain smile brightened into a full-blown grin. "What a pretty necklace," Ursa said, gesturing to the pendant around Katara's neck.

"It was my mom's."

Sadness touched Ursa's amber eyes as she stood up.

"Now, Lady Ursa, where is this son of yours I have heard so much about?"

Her smile fell. "I apologize for my children's absence," she said, annoyance seeping into her voice. "It is very unbe—"

"Azula!"

Just then, the sounds of running feet echoed through the courtyard. Princess Azula was sprinting, trailed distantly by her brother. She skidded to a halt in front of her mother. Her back straightened instantly, any signs of childish mischief wiped clean from her expression.

"Where have you been?"

Azula gave her mother an innocent look. "I was just trying to find Zu-Zu."

Ursa sighed. "Chief Hakoda, Katara, this is my daughter, Princess Azula."

Before either had the chance to respond, Iroh's laugh boomed through the courtyard. "What on earth happened to you, Prince Zuko?"

The prince in question glared at his sister—who studiously ignored him—his fists shaking. He was drenched, dark hair falling out of its traditional phoenix plume, plastered to his forehead. His clothes clung to him oddly, and his boots were six inches deep in mud.

"Zu-Zu fell out of a tree into the turtle-duck pond," Azula said absently, checking under her nails. She added, flashing Katara a brief grin, "He was hiding."

"That's enough, Azula." Ursa bent down and began adjusting her son's appearance. "Look at the state of you. I had _hoped_ to present a dignified prince of the Fire Nation. Oh well," she said, tucking him under his chin, "I suppose you'll have to do." She stood behind Zuko, placing her hands on his shoulders affectionately. "Chief Hakoda, Katara, this is my son, Prince Zuko. Zuko, _this_ lovely girl is Katara, your betrothed."

Azula snorted.

The children stared at each other, uncertain how to proceed. The word "betrothed" made Zuko's insides squirm unpleasantly. _This_ was his bride to be? She was just a little girl, several inches shorter than he was. Scrawny, like she had never had quite enough to eat. This may have been true, given where she was from. The notion that he would have to marry this little nobody one day unsettled him. He took a step back closer to his mother.

"Go on, Zuko," Ursa said, pushing him forward again.

The prince shot a dirty look at his mother before turning to Katara who stared at him with quizzical eyes. "It is an honor, Katara. I am so very pleased to meet you." The words came out stilted, mechanical. He offered her a stiff bow.

Katara returned the bow, glancing up at her father and Lady Ursa to make sure she was doing it correctly, and said, "Nice to meet you, too, Zuko."

"_Prince_ Zuko," the boy corrected her, earning displeased expressions on his mother's and his uncle's faces.

"Sorry, _Prince_ Zuko." Unconsciously, her voice adopted a tone that she used at home with her brother when Sokka was being unreasonable. Her hands on her hips and eye roll as she spoke certainly completed the image. Chief Hakoda suppressed a laugh.

Zuko was retreating to the sidelines when his uncle coughed and shook his head. "Aren't you forgetting something, Nephew?" Iroh winked.

Color drained from his face. _He couldn't be serious, could he?_ He glanced from Iroh to Katara and back again. The look on his uncle's face confirmed it: yes, he was quite serious. With a pained expression, Zuko turned again toward Katara, took one of her hands in his and quickly bent down, pressing a kiss to it.

Katara yanked her hand away, as if electrocuted, cheeks aflame.

Zuko gagged.

The adults and Azula laughed. "Why don't you children run along and play in the garden," Ursa said once the laughter died down. "I would like to have a word with Chief Hakoda." She linked her arms with Hakoda and Iroh, steering them towards the palace. The children watched their parents disappear inside, forlorn.

Only Azula seemed unperturbed by the departure of the adults. Her sharp eyes settled on Katara, a predator cornering her prey. "So, Katara, are you a bender?"

"Yeah, I'm a waterbender," Katara replied brightly.

"Interesting. What's your tutor's name?"

"I don't have a tutor."

"No? How many hours a day do you train?"

Katara faltered. "I don't know. A couple? I only get to use it in between doing my chores and—"

Azula cackled. "Oh, that is disappointing. I was going to say we should spar sometime but there really would be no contest there. But I'm sure you would present enough of a challenge for Zu-Zu." She sauntered away, leaving Katara dumbstruck.

Regaining herself, Katara sized Zuko up and down. He was scowling at Azula's back, fists balled at his sides. "So…_Zu-Zu_?"

"Don't. Call. Me. That."

* * *

><p>The adults were having a good-natured conversation in the study over a pot of Iroh's ginseng tea. Iroh had just concluded a rousing tale of his time in the Earth Kingdom involving a hot spring, an attractive bounty hunter, a band of gypsies, and a Pai Sho match with his clothes on the line. Hakoda clapped a hand on Iroh's shoulder as he laughed; Ursa busied herself with her tea, trying to hide the faint blush on her cheeks. The laughter died down and the adults listened to the sound of the children's voices carrying up from the garden. They heard bickering, laughter, and shouts from below.<p>

"I'm still not sure this will work," Hakoda said, breaking his companions from their silent reflections. "But I am glad we're trying. Katara needs this. She doesn't have a lot children her age back home, aside from her brother, and he's at an age where he is going to start learning more about what it means to be a man of the tribe. There's not much for a girl her age, back home. I worry that she'll feel left behind."

"They seem to be getting along quite nicely," Iroh replied, inclining his head towards the open window, a twinkle in his eye. "I feel reasonably confident in this arrangement."

"Which reminds me," Ursa cut in, "I have paperwork for you to sign."

"My dear, let the man relax a little before you bombard him with business talk. He's only just arrived!"

"I appreciate the concern, Iroh; however, I know _I_ would feel much more relaxed once I know that Chief Hakoda agrees to the terms I have set. Of course," she said, turning to Hakoda, "if you would rather wait and discuss it later, I suppose that would be fine. It's your call."

"No, no. Let's just get this done now while neither of us have children in our hair. How do you do it, by the way—the single parent and ruler of a nation thing?"

"The same way you do, I suppose." Ursa reached into a drawer and pulled out two scrolls, one noticeably thicker than the other. She slid them across her desk towards the chief.

Hakoda reached for the larger of the two and unraveled it. "I suppose you have help, what with the servants and tutors. This is the trade agreement?" he asked without looking up from parchment.

"Yes, it's all there: the reparations, goods, any tariffs that would need to be implemented on either side, etcetera. I also included a reevaluation clause to allow us to revisit the terms every five years or so to make sure both parties are getting the best deal. And, yes; the servants do help me, but I try to be an active role in my children's upbringing and education. Iroh has been the biggest help to them since his return from Ba Sing Se…" She trailed off, wondering why she felt as though her parenting was being called into question and why she felt the need to defend it.

Hakoda nodded, continuing to skim the parchment. "It really does take a village, doesn't it?" he said, finally, looking up from the scroll to smile at her. "In my case, literally," he added as an afterthought. "These terms you have set are…quite generous. Are you sure your people can afford this?"

"I have had to do some creative rearranging of the nation's budget, but I think we will manage. A portion of the reparation funds will be coming out of the royal coffers. I do not wish to punish my people with steep taxes for the crimes my family committed."

"Well…thank you," the chief responded gruffly, dipping his pen into the inkwell and signing his name to the document. He slid it back across the desk toward her.

"You're welcome." She took out her pen and began signing her name as well. "She's very pretty—your daughter," she said, rolling up the scroll. "Such stunning eyes."

"She looks just like her mother." Hakoda was already reading the second scroll and so he missed the remorseful expression on the Fire Lord's face. "Kya and I were childhood sweethearts," he went on. "She was always there; I don't have a fond memory of my childhood where she wasn't there. She was sweet, feisty, vivacious…and so beautiful. When I look at Katara now, I can almost see Kya again, looking out through her eyes." He stopped then, a lump rising in his throat.

Ursa reached across the desk and squeezed his hand gently. "You are lucky to have had such a companion in your life."

Hakoda nodded. "So, what's your story, Ursa? How did you end up marrying Ozai? I suspect it wasn't love at first sight or anything cliché like that."

She laughed, a short, bitter sound. "No. It was nothing like that; it was an arranged marriage. Azulon himself came to broker the deal with my parents, which came as quite a surprise. I was seventeen. I had never laid eyes on Ozai until the ceremony. There was a great deal of pomp and circumstance but little heart in the ordeal. After, I got to know him a little better. He was handsome, charming, clever, and clearly ambitious; and I blinded myself to believe these were good qualities to have in a husband."

"How did you come to hate him, then?"

A shadow crossed her eyes before she continued. "It is my belief, Hakoda, that an unhappy marriage is not without love. It is without friendship. I _did_ love Ozai, and maybe he loved me, too. But he didn't know anything about me. And, as I discovered later, I knew nothing of him. If I had…" her mouth formed a hard line. "Let's just say that I never want my children to have to experience that."

Iroh laughed. The sound was so out of place in the context of Hakoda and Ursa's conversation, but he was not paying them any mind. The general was standing at the window, gazing down into the gardens below where the children were playing. "You two may want to see this," he said.

The other two stood and joined him at the window. Down below Azula was doubled over laughing, clutching her sides. Katara was on the ground on the bank of the turtle-duck pond with a flustered expression on her face. Zuko was on top of her.

"Get off of me!" they heard Katara cry from below. There was some awkward scrambling as Zuko tried to extricate his limbs from hers. However, the mud along the bank made everything slippery and he stumbled back down onto her. Frustrated, she whipped her arm through the air, carrying a thin stream of water with it.

It smacked Zuko across the face.

"Oh my!"

"Uh oh."

"Nice shot!"

Zuko staggered away from Katara, rubbing his face where the water had slapped him. "Girls are crazy!" he yelled, stomping back towards the palace.

Iroh grinned, glancing between Ursa and Hakoda. "I think that went rather well. Don't you?"


	3. Chapter 3

_That men do not learn very much from the lessons of history is the most important of all the lessons that History has to teach. –Aldous Huxley_

**Chapter Three: Legends and History**

_Fire Lord Ursa,_

_I'm writing to you from a tiny island in the Earth Kingdom called Kyoshi Island. Have you heard of it? We were following the migrations of the polar marlin north when a storm blew in and wreaked havoc on our ships. There were no serious injuries but our vessels are another matter. Luckily, we were able to limp along to the nearest port, from which I write to you now, to make repairs. _

_The island is fascinating. This seems to be one of the few communities in the Earth Kingdom that wasn't touched by the war. They knew about it, of course, but apparently maintained a strict neutrality all these years. My son, Sokka, was both fascinated and disturbed by the fact that the warriors of the island are all women. They train their girls at a young age to fight using fans and to move with stealth. Sokka made the mistake of making a flagrantly sexist comment to one of their young recruits. He walked away with a black eye. I'd say I was appalled…but I have a feeling Sokka had it coming. _

_We should be able to leave port in a few days, although many of the locals here have expressed interest in opening up trade. We could be here a while longer._

_Because of these delays, I've found that I actually have to time to write and inquire after my daughter. How is she? Are she and your son actually getting along this time? And don't sugarcoat it for me; Katara will tell me how it really went when I see her at the end of the summer. She always does._

_I hope this letter finds you, your family, and your nation in good health. Give Katara my love when you see her._

_-Chief Hakoda_

_PS. It would interest you to know that those fire flakes we imported are causing a sensation in the South Pole. My mother-in-law insists it has changed her philosophy on cooking. The slight paunch I sported last winter is a testament to that._

* * *

><p><em>Chief Hakoda,<em>

_I was sorry to read about your crew's misfortune at sea; I hope this does not injure your fishing industry too much. And no, I had not heard of Kyoshi Island before receiving your letter but I asked Iroh if he had and he launched into a lengthy monologue about how the island was created. I would write down the story for you here, but Iroh tells it much better than I ever could; he apparently has a whole routine. You will have to ask him about it at your next visit. _

_The children are doing marginally better than they have in years past. They still bicker like there is no tomorrow but so far there have only been minor bumps and bruises. However, I will not hold my breath. It is still too early in the summer to count out any major squabbles. Honestly, I do not understand why they seem incapable of getting along. Katara has never said an unkind thing to either Iroh or me and she even gets along with Azula relatively well considering how abrasive my daughter's attitude can be at times. And Zuko truly is the sweetest son a mother could ask for—rough around the edges, certainly—but sweet nonetheless. _

_On an unrelated note, Katara seems to have burned through all our library has to offer on the subject of waterbending. She practices the forms she has read about constantly. I am sure you have seen her do this at home, too. It is almost inspiring to watch. It does not come naturally to her, but she struggles through each form until it is beyond reproach. In this way, she and Zuko are very much alike. Although, I would argue that Katara is much more patient with herself than Zuko is with himself. Still, she has mastered nearly all our limited resources have to offer her. With your permission, I would like to procure for her a waterbending master. Iroh says he has an old friend in mind but I am a little wary of him. Master Pakku is from the Northern Tribe and I am acutely aware of their rules regarding female benders. However, perhaps he can be persuaded since she is _your_ daughter. _

_Good luck on all your ventures this summer. Iroh and I will do our best to keep the children out of too much mischief. _

_Sincerely,_

_Fire Lord Ursa_

_PS. I am pleased the fire flakes were such a hit with your tribe. The sea prunes we have imported from your people have been, unfortunately, less popular. Katara is their primary consumer._

* * *

><p>Katara slammed the tile on the Pai Sho board in triumph. "Ha!" she exclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest and grinning in satisfaction. "I win."<p>

Zuko scowled at the board, eyes raking over the tiles. This was the third time that afternoon that she had beaten him. It was not fair. She had only just _learned_ the game. He had been playing (and losing) this game with Uncle for years. How did she get so good so quickly? _How?_

Iroh chortled gleefully at the dismayed expression on his nephew's face. "Careful, Prince Zuko. Lady Katara just might teach you a thing or two about Pai Sho." He winked at the young girl as he took a sip of his ginseng tea and she grinned mischievously. Zuko looked away, scowling out the rain-streaked window.

"Honestly, Zu-Zu, the fact that you haven't figured out how she's doing it yet just _proves_ that you're a dumb-dumb," Azula purred, eyes closed, as her friend Ty-Lee ran a brush through her hair.

"Really, Azula? Is that any way to speak to your brother?" The group collectively jumped. Fire Lord Ursa stood in the doorway of the study where the children played, hands unceremoniously on her hips. Her tawny eyes narrowed and her ruby lips formed a thin line.

"Fine," the girl huffed. "Sorry, Zu-Zu."

One delicate brow quirked at the acidic tone in the child's voice, but Ursa chose to ignore it and turned her attention to the other occupants of the room. "So, what have you all been up to?"

"Zuko's being a sore loser," Katara responded, a beatific smile stretched across her cheeks. It only broadened when Zuko turned the full force of his scowl on her.

"Am not."

"Are so."

"Am _not_."

"Are _so_."

"Children," Ursa cut in, before they could begin another row. "Perhaps that is enough games for one evening. Iroh, would you like to enthrall us with another one of your rousing tales?" She gave her friend a pointed look. Together they corralled the children on the floor in front of the fireplace; they made an extra effort to arrange Zuko and Katara next to each other, much to the annoyance of the former and the chagrin of the latter.

Iroh settled down into a cushion in front of the children. "Tonight I have a special tale for you. Who wants to learn about the first Agni Kai?"

"Uncle," Zuko sighed, annoyed, "we've already covered the history of the Agni Kai in our studies."

"Ah, but I bet our lovely friend, Katara, here has not heard the tale."

"It's not that interesting," the prince insisted.

"Then perhaps you could tell us the story, Prince Zuko." If the old general was at all upset by his nephew's behavior, he did not betray such feelings. Instead, he smiled. A silent challenge.

The prince huffed. "The first Agni Kai took place four centuries ago during the Jian Dynasty. There was a dispute over the island territories to the north, which came to a head when the Fire Lord's right hand general, General Agni, challenged the leader of the northern resistance, General Kai. The two faced off in a one-on-one battle, which ended in Kai's death and the northern islands were claimed. Since then, it has been used to settle disputes between fire benders and as a test of one's honor. Though rarely fatal, an Agni Kai does not end until one party has sustained burns."

Zuko crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. Sifu-Kuzon would be pleased with his textbook answer.

"I see your tutors have been telling you the sterile version of events."

"Fine. What _really _happened, Uncle?" Azula cut in, impatient as ever.

Iroh ignored the question for the moment, turning to Katara, "Would you like to hear it, Katara?"

It was uncomfortable, feeling five pairs of eyes staring at her expectantly. While Iroh's and Ursa's were gentle and encouraging, the intensity of the glares from Ty Lee, Azula, and Zuko was unnerving. Ty Lee's wide, brown eyes threatened to engulf her face with excitement. The royal children's expressions were both haughty, daring her to respond to their uncle, though in vastly different ways. Azula's tawny eyes pierced her, insistent on hearing the tale, while her brother looked as though he might pop a blood vessel in his forehead if Katara indulged his uncle. Or, at least, she hoped it would. Either way, she responded in the affirmative.

"What Zuko said was mostly true," Iroh began, "but it lacked much of the story's heart and spirit; at the heart of this tale is a tragic love story."

Ty Lee and Katara exchanged giggles; Azula managed a mildly amused smile; Zuko groaned.

* * *

><p><em>General Agni was the son of Fire Lord Jian; he possessed a keen strategic mind and equally impressive combative skills. Under his father's supervision, Agni expanded the territory of the Fire Nation and united the southern islands with the main island in the archipelago. Under the banner of Fire Lord Jian, the nation began to flourish. <em>

_However, there were those who saw a unified Fire Nation as a threat rather than blessing. _

_Villages in the northern islands had strong cultural and spiritual ties to not only the sun, but also to the rivers and ocean. In those days, before they isolated themselves in the frozen tundra of the north and south poles, waterbenders lived very scattered lives and served as healers throughout the world. It was there in those northern islands that a small sect of waterbenders found a home._

_On one of his many "peaceful" visits to the northern islands, Agni first met her. Her name was Izumi. Izumi was a skilled healer in her village, kind, and fiercely protective of her people. He had spent less than a day in her village before he realized how the people looked to her for wisdom and guidance; he was besotted. It was through watching her that he formed his plan to take the village._

_Agni intended to woo Izumi. If she could trust him, then he believed the village would follow suit. Taking the village could be painless for everybody._

_And so his courtship with the healer began. At first, Izumi resisted his romantic overtures; she neither trusted him, nor was she interested in any sort of flirtation. She was unimpressed by his title and his background; she found his arrogance and persistence annoying. Yet, despite herself, she grew to care for him, and he for her._

_Meanwhile, her brother, Kai, was growing restless. He did not like General Agni's troops waiting in the hills to claim his home in the name of Fire Lord Jian. He knew that those usurped under the Fire Lord's banner prospered, but at the cost of their identity as a people. For people like his sister, absorption into the Fire Nation would only lead to despair. _

_Izumi was well aware of both Agni's and Kai's wishes. Each day, she would try to reason with them individually, help them come to some sort of compromise. However, neither would relent, and, as a result, her bonds with both became strained._

_Finally, one fateful morning, just as the sun peaked over the horizon, Agni and his troops approached the village. Kai and his band of renegades met him just outside the village's walls; he challenged the general to a duel._

_Agni laughed, thinking his opponent to be a fool, and accepted the challenge. He underestimated him, however. What Kai lacked in strength and formal training, he more than made up for in speed and spirit. The fighting turned deadly quickly._

_A crowd had begun to form; the cacophony drew Izumi out of her healing hut. She pushed through the throng to find her love and her brother burnt and bleeding, and preparing to strike again. Instinct carried her across their battleground. She thrust herself between them, pleading for them to stop, but it was too late. Almost simultaneously, she felt their blows, intended for each other. Kai struck her head; Agni struck her heart. She was gone before she hit the ground._

_Now, it would have made sense for them to stop, to realize the horrible thing they had done. But they were too consumed in their anger to see, to feel their great loss. They continued until the ground beneath their feet was nearly molten and Kai crumbled next to his beloved sister._

_The village was claimed swiftly after that; no one wanted to challenge the man who could destroy their leader, Kai. It was only after it was all over that Agni realized what he lost._

_He erected a statue in her honor by the river but it crumbled only a few years after. Not long after that, people began to notice the waterbenders disappeared—not through any deliberate persecution. They just stopped being born._

_Some of the villagers today insist Izumi's spirit lingers, healing the sick and comforting the dying. Some claim to see her standing on the banks of the river there, as if waiting for something, but for what no one knows._

* * *

><p>"And that's how the tradition of the Agni Kai first came into existence. Coincidentally, it is also one of the many origin stories for a local myth, the Painted Lady."<p>

"That's really sad," Katara said after a moment.

"No, it wasn't," Zuko retorted. "It was stupid. The whole mess could have been avoided if Kai had just cooperated with Agni to begin with."

"He was just trying to protect his people—"

"And another thing," Zuko continued, as if Katara had not spoken, "Izumi's 'sacrifice' was totally pointless. What was she going to do? Make them play _nice_? Hn."

"_Kai_ was just trying to preserve his people's identity and _Izumi_ was just trying to protect the people she loved. How's that stupid?"

Ursa and Iroh chanced a glance at one another. What they had hoped would serve as a distraction for the children dramatically backfired. Iroh was already mentally kicking himself for this story choice.

Zuko and Katara were on their feet now. The prince crossed his arms over his chest as he sneered at the girl his family chose for him. His betrothed glared up at him, fists balled at her sides. Her cheeks were steadily flushing a deeper and deeper crimson. Soon, her face would match Zuko's tunic.

"What was there to preserve? They were one, _tiny_ village!"

"What do you know?" Katara spat in his face and stormed out of the room.

Iroh rose from his cushion on the floor to follow the child but Ursa's insistent hand, wrapped around his wrist, gave him pause. "No," she said softly but firmly. "I will go talk to her. Stay with the children." She turned her eyes towards her son, disappointment etched in the turn of her mouth, "You and I will have a conversation later."

She did not speak then as a mother but as a ruler. As a Fire Lord.

* * *

><p>The palace grounds were expansive and over the past couple of years, Katara had found a number of nooks and crannies she frequented when she was upset. So much like her element, she found that she could wriggle into any space she wanted, so long as there was an opening. Ursa knew this and set the task to several maids to help her check all the usual spots with the hopes that one of them could coax her to rejoin the party in the study.<p>

Katara was not by the turtle-duck pond, although this came as no surprise since it was pouring outside. She was not wedged between the crates of dragon fruit in the kitchen storeroom. She was not curled up in a ball beneath the stairs in the servants' quarters. And she most certainly was not lodged in the rafters above the dining room (Ursa never could figure out how she managed to climb up there).

No, Katara was hiding out in the open in a rather conspicuous part of the palace. Oddly enough, as the maids scurried about the corridors, desperate to find their honored guest, they past her hiding spot half a dozen times and never once thought to pop their heads around the corner. Ursa nearly made the same mistake and she would have had an oddly shaped shadow not caught her eye. It was there that she found Katara; the child sat between two towering pillars in the corridor, just outside the throne room, with her knees pulled into her chest and her arms wrapped tightly around them, staring up at the faces of former fire lords. Ghosts of the past. A nightmare that Ursa realized they both shared.

"How you must hate us." Ursa's words gave the young girl a start but she kept her eyes trained on the likeness before her, the late Fire Lord Ozai. Ursa followed her gaze and stared openly at her former husband. Words she desperately wished to fling at him fell short of her lips. Words like tyrant, coward, and fool. Soon she could not tell if the words were more for him or herself.

It did not matter. The girl could not hear her silent argument with a ghost and kept on glaring at him with unreadable blue eyes.

"I would not blame you if you did hate us. I hate us sometimes, too."

Another stretch of silence. Finally, "I don't hate you, Ursa. Or Iroh."

Ruby lips smiled. "But my children? My people? I suppose you hate them."

"No," Katara decided after another moment. "No, I don't hate them. I just…" She struggled to find the words. How could she verbalize the anger she felt for things she did not fully understand? Or how could she explain that, despite appearances, there were aspects of the Fire Nation that she actually cared about?

At a loss for words, Katara opted to change the subject. "Why do you keep them up there?" She gestured to the former rulers of the nation.

Ursa chuckled mirthlessly. "I suppose we leave them up there because none of us want to face the alternative."

"Huh?"

"Katara, if you forget the past, you run the risk of repeating it. I do not particularly enjoy seeing Ozai's face up on that wall every day, but it serves as a reminder to me that he, and his father and grandfather before him, made an impact on this country. It is my job to remember their example and to learn from it in order to ensure a brighter future for my people. It is a lesson that, regrettably, my son has yet to fully grasp."

"He's a jerk," Katara said, looking down and playing with the hem of her tunic.

"He's a twelve-year-old boy. Of course, he's a jerk." Ursa gently lifted Katara's face up to meet hers. "But what he said to you was insensitive and unacceptable. I do not think he realized the implications of what he was saying. He is a product of his upbringing, as you are of yours, and that is something that _I_ need to fix, not you."

"I don't understand."

A sigh, "Someday you will." Ursa lifted Katara to her feet and tucked a stray hair behind the child's ear affectionately. "Now," she said, "would you like to rejoin us in the study? I'd like to see your strategy for defeating my son in Pai Sho."

Katara smiled but shook her head. "I think I'd rather go to bed now. Is that okay?"

"Of course."

* * *

><p>The next day, Prince Zuko found himself standing in his mother's office. She stood at the window with her back to him, gazing into the garden below. It was never a good sign when she would not face him.<p>

"Do you know why I summoned you here?" Her voice was steady, controlled—her authoritative voice, her Fire Lord voice.

"You're angry with me."

Ursa turned away from the window and asked, "Do you know why?"

"Something to do with last night?" Zuko fought the urge to cross his arms over his chest; such a flippant gesture would only fuel her fury.

"What specifically?

"Why do you keep asking me all these stupid questions?"

"Why do _you_ think?"

The question was uncharacteristically sharp. It stung as he stood before his mother, jaw clenched and fists trembling. He met his mother's eyes with defiance. She glared back in a silent standoff.

Finally, she relented. "Zuko, my love, you are too old to be speaking so thoughtlessly."

"I didn't even do anything! Katara was the one who flipped out. I mean, it's just a story—"

"That hit maybe a little too close to home." Ursa gestured for Zuko to sit. He did so with a degree of reluctance; he knew when to be wary of his mother and he did not trust that her temper had cooled quite yet. "Have you ever wondered why Katara has never mentioned her mother?"

_No. Why should I care?_ "No."

"How about why you have only ever met her father?"

_Because of some weird Watertribe patriarchy thing? _Zuko shook his head.

"It's actually because of our family—your father, in fact."

Zuko visibly shrunk in his seat. How many times had his mother willingly ventured the topic of his dearly departed father to him? He could count on one hand. How many times had those conversations been pleasant? He did not need to count.

"About a year before the war ended, your father gave the order for the Southern Raiders to attack the Southern Watertribe, apprehend any waterbenders, and kill them on sight. Of course, this kind of aggression is nothing new for this family; your grandfather and great-grandfather both made similar decrees."

"So…what? Katara's mom was a waterbender?"

Ursa shook her head. "Katara is the first waterbender to be born in the south in fifty years."

The prince looked out the window. "What does this have to do with last night?" His voice cracked.

"I know Katara seems very young to you. The difference between ten and twelve must seem enormous. But she understands things a child her age should never have to know. Something in that story—possibly a number of things—resonated with her. And you trivialized that. Now, our family knows suffering, but Katara? Her family? They _know_ suffering. So, you are going to go find Katara; you are going to apologize for your thoughtless remarks; and then, you are going to find Sifu-Kuzon and tell him that I would like to have a word."

Ursa took up her pen and shuffled around some papers, very business-like. When Zuko did not move from his seat, she glanced up, eyebrows lifted. "What are you waiting for? Scoot."

* * *

><p>He found Katara standing under the moon-peach tree by the turtle-duck pond, swishing an oblong ball of water between her hands. Its shape wobbled, ripples swam in and out of view. But the movement itself was quite good, he supposed. His knowledge of waterbending only stretched so far as whatever she jabbered about during supper. He almost felt bad that he had to interrupt her practice. Almost.<p>

"Hi."

He watched with amusement as she tensed her shoulders. The water stopped flowing and splashed at her feet. "What do you want?" She was still angry, he decided, listening to the sharp tone in her voice. Yet not so angry that he needed to fear her attacking him with her bending. Not that he really would _ever_ need to fear that. But still…

"I just came to apologize. Sorry. I didn't know you took all that stuff so personally. Sorry."

He waited for a moment, curious to see how she would respond, _if_ she would respond. As the moments ticked by without a peep from her, he turned on his heel and made for the main house.

"Zuko?"

He paused, glancing over his shoulder.

"Do you want to spar?"

His lips twitched. "We both already know who would win."

_Me._

_Me._

* * *

><p><strong>Author Note:<strong> Sorry to have taken so long to update. I just lost someone very dear to me and it has taken a while to bounce back. I also rewrote this chapter about a dozen times, so any feedback you have, I will happily take. Thank you to all who have reviewed so far. It means a lot.


	4. Bonus

**Author Note: **This was originally supposed to be the start of Chapter Four, but I ended up having too many ideas and it really did not fit into what I had planned for the rest of it, so I cut it. But I had too much fun writing it to dispose of it completely, so here you go! Think of it as a thank you to all of you for your kind words and support. Admittedly not a Zutara chapter, but there is an awkward Ursa and Katara moment, which was surprisingly fun to write. Don't worry, I will make up for the lack of Zutara next chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>"<em>The dark realization came to him that a difficult and miserable age had begun for him, and he couldn't imagine when it would end. [Puberty]" –Alberto Moravia, <em>_Agostino_

**Bonus Chapter: Growing Pains**

During her tenure as Fire Lord, Ursa developed a reluctant yet profound respect for her predecessors. She felt she had a deeper understanding as to why they were so prone to violence, especially when trapped behind her desk with a mountain of unanswered letters, proposals, reports, and laws to review. If she were a bender, she would have loved very much to throw a few fireballs at something, too. As she was not, all she could think do was to sigh loudly, lean back in her chair, and glare hatefully at the ceiling as she remembered that it was, in fact, her _predecessors'_ faults that her country was such a mess to begin with.

A soft knock at her door roused her from her reverie. A servant girl of no more than seventeen entered, carrying a tray.

"I beg your pardon, my lady, for the intrusion, but master Iroh sent me to bring you some tea. He said you needed sustenance if you—and these are his words, madam—"insist on running yourself into the ground with all this political nonsense." There was a proverb somewhere in there, too, but I can't remember it. At any rate, I also brought you some fruit and pastries."

Ursa smiled weakly and rolled her eyes skyward. "Thank you. You can set the tray here." Ursa took up the nearest scroll and began scanning it without gleaning its contents. When she looked up, the servant girl was still there.

"Is there something else?"

The girl nodded, looking mildly uncomfortable. "Yes. This morning when several girls and I were changing the linens in Lady Katara's room, we found blood on her sheets. Since…well, since her upbringing is so _different_ than ours, we weren't really sure how much she really…_knew_…and if there was anything you would like us to do for her beyond changing the sheets…" She trailed off, her cheeks flushed.

Ursa's eyes widened as she listened. The girl's embarrassment and confusion were understandable; she had no idea how to approach such a delicate subject. The first time she bled, she had been thoroughly distressed until her mother explained everything, and then she was just mortified. With Zuko, obviously, adolescence would be different, and so Iroh, who was the prince's chief mentor in all things, bravely took on the role of explaining the facts of life. It did not go well. She never even had to explain anything to Azula; like so much in life, she seemed to inherently understand what was happening and found it amusing when everyone made a fuss about it.

Katara was a different story.

Ursa had no idea how much Katara knew about what growing up entailed for a young woman. She knew the Watertribe was a tight-knit, family-oriented group, but without a maternal figure, whose job was it to explain these things to her? Did Katara's grandmother step in to fill that role? Another woman of the tribe? Or has she been forced to learn most of these life lessons, like she had with her bending, on her own?

"Thank you for informing me," she said finally. "Please bring her the usual supplies, and if one of you could make yourself available to her if she needs anything else on that front, please do so. Otherwise, if you could send for her to come see me, that will be all. And, of course, use discretion."

"Of course, my lady." The girl exited the room quietly.

Ursa pinched the bridge of her nose. _Please, let this go smoothly._

* * *

><p>"You wanted to see me?" Katara poked her head around Ursa's door.<p>

Preoccupied, Ursa looked up from the letter she was in the midst of answering. "Yes. Have a seat."

"Am I in trouble?" Katara wondered, sitting opposite of the ruler. "Is this about the man with the cabbages? Because I clearly told Zuko it was a bad idea and he just—"

Ursa waved her hands, cutting her off. "What cabbages?"

"Never mind. What's up?"

The Fire Lord blinked several times, gathering her derailed thoughts. "Well, uh…this might be a tad…awkward. So bear with me. I promise to make this conversation as quick as possible so we can both get on with our day. So," she began, taking a deep breath, "earlier one of the servants informed me that she found blood on your linens and…I just wanted to make sure you understood what was going on, if you had any questions—"

"We _really_ don't have to talk about this," Katara squeaked, her face as red as the walls behind her. "Gran-Gran already covered _this_ particular conversation."

"Oh! Good! Good. I mean, not that I would not be willing to have this conversation, if you needed it. I am just glad that you understand already. I did not want you to be scared or anything like that."

"Nope. I'm good."

"So, we do not need to talk about where babies come from either, I suppose."

The blush on Katara's face deepened. Her eyes were wide. "Nope. I actually knew about that one longer than the other thing. A lot of babies were born after the warriors came home. So…"

"Ah."

They sat in silence. Katara stared pointedly at the ground and Ursa gazed blankly ahead. This had not panned out as she had originally thought it would. She had planned for awkward explanations and unhelpful metaphors that everyone accepted because they simply wished to drop the subject; yet, once again, she met with a child who already claimed to understand the inner workings of female adolescence. At least Katara had the good grace to be equally uncomfortable by the subject matter, unlike her own daughter who laughed at her discomfort.

_When did children become so knowledgeable of such things?_ She wondered. _Has it always been this way?_

Katara finally shattered the awkward silence. "Thanks, Ursa, for…you know. I honestly wish I had had the conversation with _you_ instead of Gran-Gran; she was weirdly eager to tell me all about it. Anyway…are we good?" The girl looked all too eager to escape the office.

Ursa had mercy on her. "Yes.


	5. Chapter 4

"_The best people all have some kind of scar." –Kiera Cass, The One_

**Chapter Four: Two Kinds of Leaders**

Bright orange and yellow flames whizzed past Katara's cheek. She dodged it, narrowly, before whipping a thin stream of water across the courtyard, aimed at Zuko's chest. The young teenager darted out of the way, sending a rapid succession of blasts at the waterbender. They came at her too quickly for her to avoid them; she drew her water close to her and formed a wall. The water absorbed most of the blasts, but the impact was still strong enough to knock the girl to the ground.

The prince and the waterbender remained where they were, panting, a satisfied smirk on the former's face, a scowl on the latter.

Iroh, Azula, and her two friends, Ty Lee and Mai, stood on the sidelines, observing them. "Good," Iroh called to them with a grin, "very good. You are both improving."

"_Please_," Azula scoffed quietly. "It's not much of a challenge when your opponent is a novice with no bending master. Katara would easily surpass Zu-Zu if we could only find her a proper teacher."

Katara stood with her back to the spectators, still breathing heavily. Her brows furrowed and her mouth pressed in a hard line. "Again."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "As you wish." His lithe body folded into a defensive stance, daring Katara to make the first move.

There was no hesitation in her attack. There was no grace or fluidity either. Frustration and fatigue seeped into her water, weighing it down, filling it with lead. Zuko avoided each attack with little effort; he looked almost bored.

"C'mon," he taunted, "where's the butt-kicking you promised? I'm waiting." He grinned as Katara gnashed her teeth and snarled, but the smile dropped when he saw the young waterbender charge him head on, abandoning her water whips in favor of clenched fists drawn back for the punch. He could not be certain where or when during the sparring match he had crossed the line, but somewhere, somehow he had, and now he had to act quickly or get a taste of what Katara fondly referred to as "Suki's specialty," whatever that meant.

He aimed his blast low, hoping to break her roots. Flames burst from his fists, licking the stones beneath her feet. Caught off guard, she stumbled backward, falling once again to the ground. The thud of her right elbow cracking against the pavement echoed throughout the courtyard. Tears pricked Katara's eyes as she breathed out a low hiss.

"So, the rumors _are_ true."

All eyes turned towards the source of the scathing comment.

A small crowd had quietly formed in the shade, observing the young benders. Most of the newcomers were older gentlemen who carried themselves in a stately manner with their topknots tied tight, their mustaches neatly groomed, and their noses tilted skyward even as they gazed down at the children in the yard. However, one amongst them gazed at them straight on, his eyes alight with curiosity, amusement, and some other nameless quality that made Zuko's insides squirm unpleasantly.

"Ah, gentlemen." Iroh's greeting was warm. He approached the group and bowed his head in acknowledgment. "You are early. Come, come, I shall have a pot of ginseng tea prepared for you all before the meeting begins."

"There's no need for that, Iroh," the speaker of the group replied. "We had heard that the prince was training and we were eager to watch his…_progress_."

"It is a rather exciting display to observe," Iroh conceded, "but I am afraid he and our lovely friend, Lady Katara, have had enough sparring for the day. Perhaps another time."

"Ah, so this is the daughter of the Southern Chief. Pretty little brute, isn't she?"

Katara glared at the man with all the venom she could muster. He laughed.

"Commander Zhao, it would be wise not to insult our honored guest. In the future, I would advise you treat her with the same respect you would any other dignitary. Perhaps even more; nothing douses a fire quite like the rain."

His expression remained unapologetically amused. "Forgive my rudeness." He turned towards his companions, "Gentlemen, I believe General Iroh has offered us his famous tea; we would be remiss in our manners if we did not accept his generosity. Come."

The group disappeared into the palace with Iroh following close behind them.

"What's _his_ problem?" Katara wondered, clutching her injured arm to her chest.

Zuko ignored her, running after his uncle. "Uncle! Wait."

Iroh turned, confusion etched into the lines on his face. "Yes, my nephew?"

"The council meeting—is it today?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"I want to go," he said, as if it were the most obvious explanation in the world.

"These meetings are terribly boring, Prince Zuko. Just a bunch of old men squabbling about bureaucratic nonsense—nothing that a young man of your age need concern himself with. It is a beautiful day. Go spend some quality time with our charming friend, Katara. Show her—"

"_Uncle_…"

Iroh sighed. "Fine, but keep your comments to yourself; these old fellows can be a bit sensitive, you know?"

Zuko's face split into a wide grin. "Thank you, Uncle!" he exclaimed as he raced inside to change.

* * *

><p>Zuko was acutely aware of the eyes that followed him as he entered his mother's meeting room, formerly known as the war chamber. Curiosity, disapproval, and condescension from the guards and the council members alike stalked him as he took his seat beside his uncle. He held his head high, fighting the urge to retreat into his armor like a turtle-duck withdraws into its shell when threatened. He deserved to be there. He was the crown prince. He <em>belonged<em> there.

The council meeting was just as Uncle Iroh had promised: bureaucratic nonsense. Over the course of two hours, Zuko's eager countenance slipped from his face, replaced by a mask of boredom. He glanced at his mother; she schooled her expression, maintaining interest even during the most mundane of topics. When she spoke, her words were always diplomatic and eloquent. Warmth spread through him. His mother was not a bender. She was not born to nobility. She had not been raised to be a politician. She was just the granddaughter of someone important who was gone now. And yet, watching her, Zuko was certain he had never seen her more in her element.

"Ambassador Chi Fu, do you have any updates regarding our exodus from the Earth Kingdom colonies?"

"Yes," replied a rather portly man to Zuko's left. "All Fire Nation colonies dating back twenty-five years have reverted control back to the Earth Kingdom. According to the recent census, most of the former colonists have returned to the Fire Nation and have found gainful employment."

"That is good news. And what of the colonies that predate those?"

Here the man hesitated; Zuko perked up in his seat. "Well…there have been…incidents. _Small_ riots. You see, many of these older colonies are already seeing third and fourth generation Fire Nation citizens living within their walls. Most of the people now residing there have never even been to the Fire Nation. Not to mention the intermarrying between our citizens and Earth Kingdom locals; removing our people could potentially break up families."

Ursa sighed heavily. "I see. What does the Earth King have to say on this matter?"

"The Earth King is aware of the problem and is sympathetic to our plight. However, he is also under a great deal of pressure from his government to remove our presence in as swift a manner as possible. Apparently, despite your best efforts at establishing a friendly relationship with the Earth Kingdom, many still harbor strong anti-Fire Nation sentiment."

"I see no reason why we should have to remove our people from the Earth Kingdom at all." Zuko's attention snapped to the new speaker, the man from before, Commander Zhao. "All we did was take what the Earth Kingdom was too weak to protect and maintain. Survival of the fittest. As far as I'm concerned, those colonies belong to the Fire Nation."

"Commander Zhao," Ursa said, her voice laced with steel, "That land has belonged to those people for thousands of years. Just because we controlled it for a hundred, that does not make it ours. It belongs to the Earth Kingdom and we _will_ find a solution that will satisfy all parties involved. In the meantime, I will personally write to the Earth King and beg his indulgence a while longer while we brainstorm potential solutions. We will table this issue until next month. Next order of business: trade."

Zuko suppressed a groan and slid back into his state of disinterest, only reemerging when he heard the word "Watertribe."

"Our goods have been doing exceptionally well in the Southern Watertribe, our spices particularly. However, their goods have been less popular here. When I spoke with a representative of their tribe, he made it clear that this was a source of frustration for his people."

"Well, perhaps if they would send us goods that are more worthwhile than ocean kumquats, we might actually consider consuming them."

"Sea prunes," Zuko corrected quietly under his breath.

Zhao leaned forward, a sneer on his lips, "Do you have something you would like to add, _your highness_?"

Once again, Zuko was keenly aware of the eyes all pinned on him. He swallowed thickly, "Just that they're not 'ocean kumquats.' They're called 'sea prunes.' Apparently, they're a delicacy in the Southern Watertribe."

Commander Zhao snorted. "Regardless, they're bland and disgusting and it is ridiculous that we are trading our finest silks and spices for them."

"The idea is not just about an economic exchange; it is also about a _cultural_ exchange. We are trying to build a relationship and understanding with these people whom we have wronged."

Zhao glared at the Fire Lord. "The Southern Watertribe is weak and irrelevant. They have _one_ native waterbender to their name, a little savage who has virtually no control over her so-called 'gift' and whose own culture has barred her from learning any useful tricks. If you wanted to make nice with the Watertribe, you would have been better off forging a relationship with the North. At least they are remotely civilized, comparatively speaking. The fact that we aligned with such a pitiful society is an embarrassment to the Fire Nation. But really, I can't say I'm surprised we have sunk so low, considering…"

In a matter of a second, Zuko was on his feet, trembling. "How _dare_ you speak to the Fire Lord like that? She is your leader and that position demands honor and respect!"

A smirk stretched across Zhao's face. "Unless I am mistaken, she is only the _interim_ Fire Lord. And if you have any shred of intelligence, it would be wise to consider how her choices are driving our nation into the ground and what kind of ruler you want to be when it's your turn, Prince Zuko. There are two kinds: one who is willing to do whatever it takes to make his people great and one who is too weak to seek greatness. Which do you think _you_ will be?"

"I don't need to think about anything. Fire Lord Ursa has made great strides in repairing the damage from the Hundred Year War. I would be lucky to resemble her leadership in any small way; her will is _my_ will."

"Then the crown and our nation are doomed," he replied flippantly.

Once, when Zuko was still a child, he witnessed his father breathe fire at his mother because she made a comment that angered him. At the time, he had been horrified by the display and believed nothing could possibly earn such a reaction from him. The prince now wondered if that was what was happening to him as he felt the strange burning ache in his lungs, moving up his esophagus, and threatening to escape. The desire was there to lash out at this man, to make him regret his blasphemous comments. It took all of his self-control to repress the inferno within; however, some of his rage seeped through.

"Enough! You have disrespected the Fire Lord and have insulted me for the last time. Agni Kai. Tomorrow. Noon."

The prince stormed out of the meeting, while he still had some semblance of control over himself, ignoring the calls of his mother and his uncle.

* * *

><p>Katara knelt before a small, porcelain bowl of water. Her room was quiet, almost serene in its silence. After all the hubbub with the sparring match, the council members' arrival, and her brief stint in the infirmary to patch up her elbow, she had escaped Azula's teasing and was now focusing on the bowl before her.<p>

She hated the silence at home; where there was silence there were no people, no comradery, and no merriment. However, in the Fire Nation, silence meant no fussing maids, no barbs from Azula, and no complaints from the prince. As far as she was concerned, solitude was the sweetest reprieve this stiflingly humid nation had to offer.

She lifted her left hand over the bowl, shifting her fingering and the sway of her arm as she did so. The liquid rose, fluctuating to her command tentatively. Katara furrowed her brow, willing the water to bend to her every whim. She cursed quietly under her breath when the water wobbled and droplets splashed along the rim, using words her father would surely chastise her for using if he ever heard her.

She really needed to improve her left-handed bending.

Again, she lifted her hand over the water, trying to feel the way the water circulated within itself as she had read about in Iroh's library. Gently, she moved her fingers, mimicking the push and pull of the water. Her eyes widened as she watched the fluid undulate with her ministrations.

"…never think _anything_ through!"

Katara jumped at the harsh voice, breaking her concentration and sending her water splashing down back into its container.

So much for silence.

Her ears perked. There were more seemingly angry rumblings from outside and she was almost positive the rumblings belonged to General Iroh. Somehow, the image of the jolly, peace-and-tea-loving man she had grown to know did not match with the tenor of the fearsome shouts she heard. What could possibly upset Iroh? She felt a stab of pity for whoever was on the receiving end of his ire.

The girl tiptoed towards her door and poked her head out into the hallway in the hopes of hearing what was happening with better clarity. To her surprise, she could see Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee doing the same thing just across the way. The girls blinked at each other once, twice, before Azula finally sighed and motioned for Katara to join them.

Katara scurried across the hall and whispered, "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure," the princess answered. "But it sounds like uncle and I think it's coming from Zu-Zu's room." There was no mistaking the mischievous smile on her face.

"He sounds really angry," Mai noted, her eyes tight with concern.

"The dumb-dumb must have done something really stupid at the council meeting to get him this riled up. C'mon."

The girls followed the princess down the hall to Zuko's bedroom door. Each pressed their ear firmly against the polished wood and listened. It was difficult to make out individual words but Katara could hear the familiar rasp of Zuko's voice; he sounded frustrated, defensive. Iroh's voice was much clearer, likely due to sheer volume. She could catch bits and pieces of his speech. He was angry with Zuko; that much she could tell. Something about having common sense and ramifications.

Zuko's retort must have set him over the edge because when she heard Iroh speak again, his voice was a loud thunderclap, striking fear into her heart (something she never dreamed possible when it came to Iroh). "He was goading you on! He was purposely trying to get a rise out of you and you fell for it! You swallowed his bait just as the minnow swallows the worm, only to be trapped on the hook! You must call this off!"

When Zuko spoke again, Katara could hear him clear as day, "I'm not afraid." He did not shout as she would have expected him to, but something boiled beneath the surface. Was it anger? Determination? Katara could not say, not without seeing his face and reading his now familiar expressions.

"If you will not listen to reason, then I suppose there is nothing left for me to say, my nephew."

Footsteps quickly grew louder as they approached the door. Azula motioned for them to back away quickly. In her haste, Katara stumbled backwards, bumping into Mai who, in turn, toppled over Ty Lee, who landed with a thud on the marble floor. Only Azula avoided the collision and looked poised as ever when Iroh opened the doors to find them lurking.

The former general raised his brows but did not ask the question written across his face. Instead, he smiled and said over his shoulder, "Ah, some lovely, sensible young ladies come to help you, Prince Zuko, see reason. Perhaps they will do more good than this old man could." He gracefully stepped over the pile as the girls disentangled themselves from one another, and disappeared down the hall.

Zuko stared at them in disbelief. "Were you eavesdropping?"

"You weren't exactly being quiet, dumb-dumb." Azula crossed the threshold and came to stand before her brother, arms crossed expectantly. "Now, what did you do to make Uncle so uncharacteristically cross with you?"

"It's not a big deal. Leave me alone." The prince flopped on his bed and stared up at the ceiling.

"Then why all the fuss," Ty Lee asked gently.

"We're not leaving until you spill. Come on, Zu-Zu. Talk."

"Commander Zhao was disrespecting Mother during the council meeting. Then he insulted me too. I got tired of listening to it so I challenged him to an Agni Kai. There. End of story. Would you please leave now?"

The girls stared at him in horror. Katara distinctly recalled the words he had once spoken when he explained what an Agni Kai was. _Since then, it has been used to settle disputes between fire benders and as a test of one's honor. Though rarely fatal, an Agni Kai does not end until one party has sustained burns._ Unbidden memories of the day she opened the tent and smelled the scent of burning flesh, her father covering her eyes played out in her mind. She swallowed thickly.

Mai spoke first, sitting down beside him, and fixing him in her piercing gray gaze. "But he's a _master_, Zuko. I've heard my father talk about Zhao; he's terrifying. And you're a good bender, but do you honestly think you could beat him? You could…" She trailed off, the words too horrible for her to utter.

"You could get yourself killed," Katara finished.

Zuko sat up and met her eyes; he almost smiled. "Well, then you should be excited. If I die, we don't have to go through with our parents' stupid arrangement. We both win."

"You think that's funny? What about your mom and Iroh? What about Azula? If this were just about you, I'd say go, be an idiot, I don't care. But it's not just about you. And you're picking a fight with him just because he bruised your precious ego!"

"He also insulted your people, Katara, and you personally. Don't tell me that doesn't bother _you_."

Katara blinked, taken aback. "Well, sure," she replied finally, "but I'm not about to pick a fight with a master; I'm not an idiot."

"Well, clearly, I am!"

"Clearly."

Zuko exhaled loudly, golden eyes narrowed. "Look, if that's the best you guys got then you can leave. I'm _not_ backing down."

"Zuko, we're just—"

"Out!"

Azula shrugged and murmured something that sounded very much like "your funeral" before leaving the room, dragging Ty Lee along with her. Mai followed quietly after them, her normally composed features betraying her hurt. Katara lingered in the doorway, debating if she should say something more, but one withering glare from Zuko sent her on her way without another word.

* * *

><p>A large crowd had gathered to witness Zuko's first Agni Kai. Word regarding his outburst and subsequent challenge spread rapidly throughout the palace and out into the city, capturing the attention of many nobles and dignitaries. With each retelling, the tale warped until it had reached legendary proportions, some painting Zuko as a grand, heroic figure and others portraying him as an unstable lunatic destined to fall as his father had before him. All around him, he could hear the throng buzzing, debating the validity of their respective versions of the story. Uncle would probably tell him to ignore them, to focus on his breathing, but it was difficult when phrases such as "attention-seeker" and "psychotic death wish" were so casually mingled into conversations.<p>

Iroh had come to him earlier that morning to beg him to back down from the challenge. His mother had accompanied him and although she said very little, her pain was etched into every expression. Zuko very nearly crumbled when she took his face between her palms and asked gently why he was doing this. He knew the truth would never satisfy her or his uncle, that he could not tolerate such blatant disrespect towards his mother; that Zhao's doubt in either of their abilities touched on emotions he had long repressed. Instead, he shrugged out of her reach and muttered that it was a matter of honor. Naturally, this response brought on a slew of fresh entreaties, which he ignored to the best of his abilities.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see them sitting together on a raised platform along the wall along with his sister and her two sidekicks. Katara was conspicuously missing from the party.

Irritation flared. He did not wish her to be there to act as moral support as his mother and his uncle did. Rather, he wanted to throw that scrawny waterbender's words back in her face. He wanted to show her that she was wrong to underestimate him almost as much as he wanted to punish Zhao for his insolence.

The buzzing of the spectators seemed to grow steadily louder in anticipation. Sweat dewed on his palms, his brow, as he remained in his kneeling position. His hands trembled. _Breathe_, he could nearly hear his uncle say to him in his head. Air that was too warm to be soothing filled his lungs and he breathed it out slowly. In. _You can do this._ Out. _Prove them wrong._

Zuko stood and turned to face his opponent. Zhao was already on his feet and glaring with amusement. Even without his customary armor, he must have been at least twice the prince's size, a solid wall of muscle.

"This will be over quickly," Zhao purred.

They stood facing each other, waiting for the gong to signal the start of the fight. Then, Zuko felt it, the sun reaching its pinnacle in the sky.

The gong rang.

Both slipped into a fighting stance, waiting for the other to make the first move. Impatient as ever, Zuko sent the first volleys of fire across the arena.

Zhao hardly made an effort to dodge the attack. Rather, he remained rooted to the ground, lifted his fists across his chest, and deflected the barrage one by one. The air cracked around them as Zhao diffused each blast.

Zuko panted harshly, desperation forcing him to strike again. He swung his leg high, golden flames arcing towards his opponent, who pushed them away as if they were mere wisps of smoke. Zhao swiped his hand, forcing the prince to retreat, all the while avoiding Zuko's increasingly haphazard attempts at landing a blow.

Smirk firmly in place, Zhao pressed his palms together and threw a massive wall of fire straight towards Zuko. The flames roared in his ears, drowning out the cheering and booing of the throng. He lurched backwards, narrowly avoiding the attack.

Now on the offensive, Zhao shot volley after volley at the prince, who, at so close a range, could do nothing more than deflect. The boy teetered on his feet, and, in the back of his mind, he could hear his uncle yelling "Basics, Zuko! Break his roots!" However, with Zhao's intensity ever increasing, he felt helpless as to how could possibly do that. He paused, gasping for breath, as he tried to assess Zhao's weak points. The commander had no mercy for the boy, however. The next blast he sent towards the prince had him hurtling through the air and landing with a thud on his back.

Zhao sauntered towards the prince, who looked up at him with defiance in his golden eyes. The older man drew back his fist, ready to strike.

_Break his roots…_

It was a split decision.

Zuko watched his opponent prepare to strike, to end the match. Pain and fatigue lanced through his limbs and he nearly resigned himself to accept his defeat and highly probable death. However, the words of his uncle and the inscription on the dagger Iroh had given him echoed in his mind: _Never give up without a fight._

He kicked Zhao's ankle out from under him and regained his own footing. Scorch marks marred the ground where Zuko's head had been moments before. The commander looked on in shock. If he were being honest, Zuko was just as surprised as Zhao. However, he would not allow himself to betray his astonishment. Instead, he allowed himself a brief smirk before returning the attack in kind.

The prince's strikes were relentless. In each blast, he channeled all his anger, his frustration. He saw Azula surpassing him in their studies; he heard Iroh and Katara's doubt; he saw his father lash out against his mother; and finally, he saw the sneer of his opponent as he criticized and disrespected his mother. Zhao stumbled back, still reeling from Zuko's surprising recovery, and tumbled to the ground when the prince landed a kick square in the chest.

The commander groaned both in pain and humiliation as looked up to see the thirteen-year-old prince looming over him, fists raised and ready.

"Do it!" he snarled. Blistering heat radiated from the boys fist and roared past Zhao's cheek, scorching the tan stone beside the man. He glanced at the smoke rising from the ash. "That's it?" he asked, incredulous.

"Like you said," replied Zuko, lowering his trembling hands, "there are two kinds of leaders. But if you disrespect the Fire Lord again, I won't hold back."

The boy turned his back on the commander then, and that was where he made his grievous error.

* * *

><p>The guards had refused Katara entry to watch the Agni Kai; they said only Fire Nation nobles were allowed to watch. When Katara complained that Mai and Ty Lee were allowed in, they merely brushed her off and then ignored her.<p>

They may have been determined to keep her out of the arena, but there was nothing they could really do about her sitting outside, listening to the match. Or, at least, they did not make a fuss of her sitting outside. She sat against the wall, a solid twenty feet from the nearest guard and leaned her head back. She heard the gong ring out, signaling the start; she heard the crowd cheer their approval and hiss their dissent. It sent chills up her spine, listening to them treat this act of insanity as a spectator's sport.

Perhaps more disturbing than the crowd's cheering was their abrupt silence. More disturbing than their silence was the guttural, agonized cry that shortly followed. Then the outraged roar that drowned out all other senses.

Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai recounted the Agni Kai to her later, each offering her own take on the events.

"It was nerve-wrecking to watch…"

"I wish you could have seen it, Katara. It was so cool! Zuko has improved so much and I bet you would have been _super_ impressed. Too bad that jerk couldn't play by the rules."

"The dumb-dumb did surprisingly well, all things considered. That is, until Commander Zhao blew his face off. Quite the temper on that one. I'll be shocked if the council doesn't suspend him."

Zuko had no visitors besides Ursa, Iroh, and his nurses for nearly two weeks. During meals, Iroh would often chatter away happily about the prince making a speedy recovery, but Katara suspected that was more for Ursa's benefit than hers or Azula's. The Fire Lord would smile politely before returning to picking absently at her food.

On the thirteenth day of Zuko's solitude, Iroh approached Katara.

She had been sitting underneath the moon peach tree by the pond, lazily tossing breadcrumbs into the water for the turtle-ducks to consume—one of the few pastimes she and Zuko could enjoy together peacefully. Although she would never admit it aloud, she found herself missing it a little.

Iroh smiled, watching the young girl interact with the turtle-ducklings. Her gentleness may be the soothing balm his nephew needed. If not, her feistiness would at least elicit _some_ reaction out of him. His despondent attitude had Iroh and Ursa very concerned.

"Lovely day," Iroh said, by way of greeting. Katara glanced up and smiled before returning to her breadcrumbs. "It is a pity Prince Zuko is still unable to come outside; I know how much he enjoys relaxing activities such as this. And I'm sure he is tired of his old uncle being his sole companion."

Katara paused again, this time wary. What was this sly old man up to?

Iroh chuckled, as if reading her mind. "I was wondering, would you be willing to join me in my visit with him today? Just for a little while. I'll have some tea and snacks brought up and the two of us could keep him company, lift his spirits. It could be good for him."

"Why not ask Azula?"

"I hardly think a visit from Azula will lift Zuko's spirits right now. Do you?"

Katara grinned, shaking her head. "Probably not." _Not that I'd be much better._

"Then you'll join me?"

Katara glanced back at the turtle-ducks who were now paddling away from her. She sighed, dusting off the last of the crumbs, and stood, offering Iroh a half-hearted smile.

They walked for a few minutes in companionable silence, while a storm of questions circulated in Katara's head. Finally, after noticing the perplexed look on the young girl's face, Iroh asked, "Is something troubling you?"

Katara gnawed her lip, hesitant. "It's…it's about that man. The commander who hurt Zuko."

"Commander Zhao—or I should say Lieutenant Zhao; he's not a commander anymore. The council voted to demote him after his disgraceful display in the arena. But go on."

"Well, I was just wondering…why would Ursa want him on the council to begin with? From the bits and pieces I've heard he seems kind of like a jerk."

At this, Iroh laughed. "That would be the understatement of the century. But Ursa had her reasons for including him in her council." Katara offered him an arched look, begging him to elaborate. "Zhao was a commander in my brother's army during the war. When the war ended, all military leaders, including yours truly, were put on trial to answer for our crimes against the other nations."

"But you helped _stop_ the war; why would they put you on trial?"

"Because I am human and have done things that I am not proud of and they cost me dearly. However, because I also helped end the war, my punishment was less severe, depending on who you ask. They barred me from ever ascending the throne; they actually wanted to strip the crown from my family all together but some clever man reminded them that a certain prince was also the heir of Avatar Roku. Of course, that changed everything and thus placed Ursa in power, however temporarily.

"Zhao, like me, was placed on trial. However, unlike me, when witnesses were called to testify against him, no one came; all circumstantial evidence regarding his crimes had simply vanished. Because the new regime was determined that all criminals be offered a fair trial, they had no choice but to let Zhao go free, virtually unscathed, despite the suspicious circumstances. Of course, Ursa knew what he was and did not trust him. So, she offered him a position on her new council."

Katara balked. "_Why_?"

"To keep an eye on him. As the adage goes, 'Keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer.' That and he _occasionally_ offers constructive input; although, he certainly didn't during this last meeting.

"Ursa likes to surround herself with people whose opinions vary from her own; she believes the fresh perspective is instrumental in our growth. It's one of the many reasons why she was so eager to form an alliance with your tribe."

Katara nodded, digesting this new information. One question answered, a thousand new ones begging for attention. However, it seemed like neither the time nor the place since they had arrived outside Zuko's room. _Later_, she told herself.

The room was dark; the drapes were pulled tightly across the window and the lamp on the bedside table burned a low, crimson hue. Katara spotted Zuko lying on his bed, blankets rumpled, glaring at the ceiling.

He looked awful.

Someone had shaved his long dark hair away in order to tend to the burns on the left side of his face; she wondered idly if the hair would ever fully grow back. Bandages crossed down across his face, covering the worst of the wound, but Katara could faintly make out the angry pink lines of the scar forming beneath the gauze. Dark shadows formed underneath his uncovered eye, suggesting that sleep had been fleeting for the poor boy. His hollow cheeks also gave the impression that he had not eaten in a week, possibly more.

No wonder Ursa and Iroh were so worried.

"Good afternoon, Prince Zuko!" Iroh greeted brightly, striding across the room to open the drapes. Warm light pooled into the room; Zuko flinched back away from the beams crossing his bed. "It is a beautiful day, but since you don't seem up to venturing outside yet, I brought a beautiful young lady to keep you company, with my supervision, of course." Iroh winked at them. Katara fought the urge to roll her eyes. Zuko was less tactful.

Iroh pulled up two chairs next to Zuko's bed and invited Katara to sit with him. "So, Nephew, how are you feeling today?"

Zuko lazily glanced over Iroh, whose smile seemed forced, and Katara, who played absently with the ends of her braid, and said, "Fine."

"Good! I am glad to hear it. Well, I brought some…er…" Iroh glanced around himself. "It seems in my haste for me and Katara to come visit you, I forgot the tea. Never thought I'd see the day when _that_ would happen. If you two will excuse me for a few minutes, I'll go fetch someone to bring us some."

The door closed quietly behind them, leaving the youths to stare blankly at each other.

Katara had no idea what to say to Zuko. She felt pity for him under the circumstances but since he was already proud and she would not consider herself his friend, she doubted her pity would be welcome. She also had less kind things to say to him, most of them involving some version of "I told you so."

"Well," Zuko said, breaking the silence. "Aren't you going to say it?"

Katara froze and briefly wondered if Zuko could read minds before dismissing the notion and saying, "Say what?"

"That I'm an idiot? Or that I was reckless? Or that you told me so?"

There it was, the opening to say it. And yet, seeing this boy, hardly a teenager, look so fragile despite his bark, made her swallow the harsh words she had wanted to say moments prior. Well, most of them.

"First of all, you are an idiot; that's not news. Second, it _was_ incredibly reckless of you to go through with that stupid Agni Kai. And third, I'm not going to say I told you so."

"You're not?" His scowl deepened, as if he did not trust her.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I said you'd get yourself killed. I said nothing about severe—but not fatal—burns."

Zuko rolled his good eye. "Whatever."

Silence stretched between them. Katara did not wish to sit around and waste a perfectly good afternoon with someone who insisted on being grumpy. Yet, she felt an overwhelming urge to say more, to voice thoughts that she had not said when Azula told her what happened, or when Iroh voiced his positive affirmations at dinner.

"For what it's worth," she began, unable to stop the words from tumbling out, "I thought you did the right thing—not burning Zhao, I mean. Your ancestors have done some pretty horrible things and you could have taken that first step to becoming like them. But you didn't. And, I guess…I guess that means you're not all bad. You might even make a good Fire Lord someday."

"Did you just compliment me?"

"Don't get used to it."

An unfamiliar and unsettling feeling swelled within the young pair, although not entirely unpleasant. Warmth bubbled in their bellies and spread to their limbs, to their cheeks. An older, perhaps wiser person might recognize the feeling as something akin to affection. However, for all their life experiences that aged them well beyond their years, there were still some mysteries in life to which Katara and Zuko were entirely green.

So, when Iroh returned with the tea to find his nephew and their guest uncomfortably looking away from one another, he did not have to wonder as the youths did. He simply served the tea and continued the conversation as if he had never left, smiling to himself when the shyness evaporated and was replaced by their familiar bickering.

_Maybe_, he thought. _Just maybe._

* * *

><p><strong>Author Note: <strong>Thank you all for your patience and support! This chapter was quite the challenge to write. I haven't had a ton of experience writing action sequences and so I'm afraid mine weren't the best. If anyone has any tips or resources for that kind of thing, I'd love the feedback. Any other feedback is also welcome, as always.


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